First Unitarian Society of Minneapolis

What to Do About Money?

We Unitarian Universalists are a generous people, when we are confronted by a sense of urgency or crisis. Last Monday, the Unitarian Universalist Association announced that their receipts for Hurricane Katrina relief have gone over the 3 million dollar mark; just last Sunday, this congregation gave more than $3,500 to provide urgent help for victims of the Himalayan earthquake. And yet, strangely, we do not routinely support or build our enduring institutions with the same dedication and confidence as the fundamentalists do. The concept of tithing - of systematically giving away one tenth of all our income - is apparently foreign to us. We either left it behind as part of the oppression of the old religion, or else we never heard of it, or perhaps we have considered it solely as a quaint relic of biblical agricultural communities, in which one could literally weigh out one tenth of the harvest, and give it to the support of the state/religion establishment. But that tithing might be something more than a strategy of the priests and the various denominations to get their hands on as much money as possible -- might in fact actually constitute a helpful spiritual practice, even for religious liberals and humanists -- doesn't readily occur to us.

Now, to start by putting my own cards of self-interest on the table this morning, it is surely true that if the majority of the members of this congregation followed either the advice I am about to give, or my own example, in the matter of financial support for the First Unitarian Society, our treasurers would be a lot more relaxed. It is certainly to my own advantage, and to the advantage of this institution, for our activities and programs to be adequately, or even generously, funded. However, my agenda this morning is not to talk about what is good for the bank balance at FUS; rather, it is to consider what is good for our inner lives and spiritual journeys, what it is that in the long run makes us truly happy and constitutes real wealth. I want to suggest that tithing, as a spiritual practice, is good for you, whether you give that money to this congregation or not. In fact, I am going to suggest that the most responsible form of tithing does mean giving away ten percent of your income, but that only half of that amount ought to come here. I'll come back to why I advocate that formula in a moment.

But first, let me say a word about what the tradition of tithing represents. Every major religious tradition enjoins upon its followers two duties; sometimes they are combined, and sometimes they are very distinct endeavors. One is to support the religious institution, and the professionals and learned ones who carry the wisdom of that tradition through the generations. Architecture must be constructed and maintained; decorative and performance arts in celebration of that tradition's values must be created; the rituals must be supplied; the young must be initiated, and those who mourn must be comforted. These functions cannot take place in a financial vacuum, and therefore believers must provide for them. At the same time, there is also a universal recognition of the importance of sharing with those in need. You cannot be an earnest practitioner of any faith that I know of, and not be urged that it is your duty, out of the abundance or sufficiency of your own resources, to help others, especially those who lack the barest necessities for life and human dignity. Whether it is the alms of Buddhism, the zakat of Islam, the support of widows and orphans in the Hebrew scriptures, or the charity of the New Testament, the teaching is much the same; you will never be saved, enlightened, or righteous until you have contributed to ease someone else's need - and this giving must happen not once and for all, but regularly, so that it becomes a life-shaping habit. Even many secular self-help teachings about increasing one's wealth or happiness claim that without the deliberate practice of generosity, we can never really be satisfied or at peace in our lives. Different traditions, growing out of different economic situations, offer varying formulas for calculating how much one is asked to give, and I don't suppose there is any magical virtue in any one particular way. Some, like the biblical ten percent tithe, focus on the seasonal increase of resources; other methods focus on accumulated capital wealth.

Almost all of these teachings around charity and generosity are interpreted by some of their followers as making magical promises about what will happen for those who follow the instructions correctly. God, or the universe, it is said, will reward those who give generously by increasing their wealth in unforeseen ways. This sort of thinking looks upon both charity and support of religious institutions as a kind of divine investment plan, with interest to be paid on a reliable, if not regular, basis. Even the secular gurus often argue that tithing 'pays off'; that you always get back more than you give. Personally, I doubt this as a mechanical proposition; I think that it is entirely possible to give away great chunks of money and not get anything in particular in return. Yet at another level, I do think that intentional generosity has a kind of pay-off, and that is part of what I want to talk about this morning.

For it seems to me that many superstitions have embedded within them a grain of spiritual or ritual truth. Consider for a moment, the notion that when you spill a bit of salt, you are supposed to throw a pinch over your shoulder. There are many fanciful legends about the purpose of this act, such as hitting the devil in the eye, but I think the functional reason is more human. For quite a long time in human history, salt has been a fairly precious commodity, and yet as most of us have probably experienced at one time or another, it is easy to spill. The first impulse of someone who has dropped anything relatively valuable is normally to retrieve it, and yet there is something a little petty and mean-spirited about the thought of carefully picking up every grain of fallen salt in order to put it to use. To instead throw an additional small pinch away, expresses a more confident and generous view of the world; it's okay, there is enough. Our lives and purposes are larger than scrabbling for every morsel that might fall; we can afford to let some go, give some away. Our spiritual and psychological health - our 'good luck', if you will - lies in not being anxious, greedy, clinging, obsessive about stuff, but rather in relaxing in the face of accident, cheerfully taking the world as it comes, having confidence that the salt we still have will be sufficient, that there is always a pinch to spare. In fact, if you like the allegorical approach, it may be that in throwing that pinch, we do hit the devil in the eye - the devil of stinginess and possessive control that seeks to steal our joy and comfort and ease in life by making us crabby and grasping. It's a trivial example, of course, especially given the ready availability of salt in our own culture, but the point is that this intuitive awareness runs through human wisdom at all levels, from the highest philosophical teachings to the broadest of folk maxims.

The payoff for the practice of generosity is not necessarily that the universe in some statistical way generates rewards, but rather that we become more aware of the many generosities that already constitute the abundance of our lives. I do readily believe that people who begin to tithe, or in any other disciplined way cultivate regular generosity, experience the sensation that suddenly they have more money, more opportunities, more resources in their lives; that's one of the tricky ways in which the human mind and spirit function. Sort of like the principle that those who exercise regularly find they have more energy. It really does work, not because god is hiding in the wings dropping extra blessings on anyone, but because we are constructed that way; because our own generosity heightens our awareness of both of how much we have to give, and how much we ourselves receive.

Not only does the practice of generosity shift our perspective upon the universe to a more abundant view; if we do it right, it also gives us the ability to make our own values more real. As some of both the ancient and modern teachings tell us, the benefits of learning to let go of some of our wealth will happen even if we merely throw the money out the window, paying no mind at all to what happens to it thereafter. But in the end, that's only half the fun. If we are going to be giving resources away, we might as well choose to give them where they will, in our view, do the most good for others.

This brings us back around to my theory about what should happen with that ten percent that we might try giving away. Some churches, of course, want the whole tenth, and other occasional donations on top of that, but in my opinion that is too narrow a focus. Religious community is important, and it deserves our support for what we get out of it, but it is not - and should not be - a one-stop shopping for fulfilling our larger responsibilities to our communities and to those who will come after us in this world we shape. So, I along with a number of my colleagues, would suggest that the healthy thing for religious liberals would be a half-tithe, or five percent of income, to the local congregation. This is the place that will marry you, and bury you, and educate your children; that will stand with you in times of trouble, and hold you accountable to your promises, and celebrate the joys and beauties of this earthly life with you. And, without your contribution, none of that can happen. Without your support, no one else will be given the opportunity to learn how this community might transform their lives, and there will be no witness to this city, this state, this nation, about what is required of us together in the service of justice, freedom, and peace. Be assured, if our staff and leadership had fully five percent of the income of this whole congregation to work with, there would be no financial limit to what we could do, in this Society and on behalf of this Society. It would be breath-taking.

So, are we off the hook, then? Is it five percent and done? No, not so fast! However dynamic and progressive and beloved this particular congregation may be, our obligations do not end here. I want to suggest that there are at least five other categories of giving that we ought to be engaged in; if you want to divided it up at one percent each, that's fine with me, but it doesn't have to be that mechanical. The point is, that each of us has, and should have, values and interests apart from the First Unitarian Society, and those convictions should also express themselves in our giving. Probably for the majority of us, they already do. When I first began to think about intentional tithing, it seemed like a high, distant mountain. Getting to five percent to the local religious community was easy, but it was also in my case particularly self-serving; no one is more gratified than I am when this institution can pay its bills with confidence! When I thought about the amount that I should be giving on a regular basis for the other five percent, I was a little alarmed. But then I sat down and calculated what I was already donating to various organizations and causes on a sporadic basis, and realized that it wasn't that far a stretch at all; I just had to be methodical about it. You also might be pleasantly surprised by how close you already are - or even by how much you already exceed - the five percent mark.

But I want to suggest that there are these various types of giving that we all ought to at least consider, and the process of discernment is important. Do you want to spread your contributions around to many different groups, or focus on a couple of those you think are most important? How does each of these categories reflect your personal values? The exercise of answering these kinds of questions will be good for you, before you ever write a single check. The categories fall into two types; the first three would be on-going in any world, no matter how just, peaceful, or perfect. The second two deal with responding to the ways in which the world that exists falls short of the world we would like to see.

The first category to my mind is political. This involves supporting candidates and causes that will help to embody our values in the arena of laws and policies. Of course donations to individual campaigns for office fall into this category, but so do larger political organizations, such as individual parties, on state and national levels, and political influence groups such as Emily's List. It also includes lobbying groups such as the American Civil Liberties Union, Common Cause and People for the American Way, as well as specific issue organizations, such as the National Abortion Rights Action League, the American Rifle Association, or a host of other advocacy groups. Support for candidates and issues will always be important, for the political process will continue, no matter how well we might succeed in eradicating various injustices and sufferings in the world.

The second category is educational. Whether it is supporting the college or graduate school, or professional program you might have attended, or increasing the educational opportunities of some particular group, such as the Negro college fund, the National Indian Education Association, or particular schools for the blind, or disabled, I believe that each of us should be making a personal investment in the education of our next generations. This might mean contributing to your local public school, or to a private or charter school whose approach you particularly believe in. It might mean supporting a seminary, or medical school, producing the next batch of ministers or doctors, if that is important to you. It might take the form of scholarship funds, or endowing professorial chairs, or sustaining the school library, or giving money for pencils and crayons and school supplies - all of it matters. There may well be no single bigger investment any of us could make in the future well-being of human society.

The third category of enduring need is cultural. As the old feminist protest song suggests, people need both bread and roses; there must be more to life than mere food and shelter and toil for all of us. Therefore, it is important to support those enterprises that bring beauty and grace to our common life, like the many theaters and musical groups here in Minneapolis, whether classics like the Guthrie and the Symphony, or experimental and cutting edge, like the Fringe festival. Perhaps it is art museums that you particularly cherish, or the Children's Science Museum, or the Historical Society. Perhaps it is the public library that matters most, or the animals at the zoo, or the landscape arboretum. Maybe Minnesota Public Radio touches your life. Whichever aspect of cultural enrichment you choose, part of your generosity should be nurturing something that enriches and improves the human spirit. This does not mean merely a season ticket subscription; it means an additional free gift for which you get nothing in return but the awareness of helping to sustain a part of the community that is special to you.

The last two categories to consider in planning our intentional generosity - not necessarily in importance, just in the order in which I am mentioning them - are those which, in an ideal world, it would be nice to see eliminated. If everything were as we think it should be, there would be no need for these contributions, and wouldn't that be great? But until then, our giving to such causes serves as a witness to our own affirmation of the peace, abundance and comfort that we would wish to see for all our fellow creatures. The first of these is the traditional charities of direct service, like soup kitchens, homeless shelters, food pantries, supportive housing, and community centers; local groups such as Lydia house, Person to Person, Open Arms, and we could name dozens more. It also includes efforts to both support people with various specific diseases, and through research to discover cures for AIDS, breast cancer, MS, birth defects, mental illness, and so on. Never very far from wherever we stand, our friends and neighbors are suffering, and need our help. So do the animals, both specific endangered species as well as those domesticated creatures who share our society and are the concern of People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, and the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. It will be a splendid day when any of these organizations can disband, because the diseases are cured, or the needs all met, but in the meantime, we become who we are by whose cries we hear, and who we choose to help.

The fifth and final category has to do with international concerns. As the planet becomes ever smaller and more thickly interconnected, we must become ever more clearly aware that all people in all lands are our neighbors, and that we cannot make our own nation prosperous and just while ignoring the oppression or sufferings of others. Some part of our generosity needs to go beyond the borders of our own communities and country; to consider not only what needs are most immediately to hand, but also what needs are greatest in absolute terms. As always, this can take a variety of forms; support for the UU Service Committee, which partners with organizations around the globe to address issues of human rights and community development; or it might be other organizations like Amnesty International, Doctors without Borders, the Heifer Project, the International Red Cross, the American Refugee Committee, Unicef, the United Nations itself, or any one of hundreds of others whose work you may find admirable and compelling.

That's the list; political, educational, cultural, local charitable, and international. When you put it all together, it almost seems as if five percent were not enough. There is so much to be done, and so many opportunities to make a small difference. You and I, of course, probably don't have the resources to buy the changes we want in the world directly, but that's not the object anyway. The point is to be part of the evolution of this planet, and our human role in it. The point is, to live in the cheerful awareness that we have enough, and indeed by any standard outside our own, vastly more than enough; to affirm our confidence in the abundance of the universe by our intentional, purposeful generosity. Ten percent is enough to notice; enough to mean something; enough to awaken our own spiritual attention; enough to change who we are by way of what we do. Sure, it's a wonderful thing for the world, when we make our resources available to build religious community and to give flesh to the values we cherish; what we do to enrich the common life of humanity is good for ourselves. And that makes sense, if you assume as I do that everything is, after all, connected. But that's only half the picture, and perhaps the less important part. What matters most is what it does to us; what kind of a person it makes us when we undertake to be, over time, a gracious and generous and deliberate giver.

I'm not asking for sudden, dramatic commitments, but I am asking you to think about it. Play with the idea; do the calculations for your own situation. What would it mean for your life, genuinely to set aside ten percent for giving? If you really dared give that much, what would you do with it? Which organizations would you choose to support? Let it grow on you; see if the urge comes back to you at odd times. Don't leave us out, here at FUS; we still need as much help as you can give us to keep this congregation chugging along. But that's not the end of it; the world has other projects waiting for your attention. What happens when you open up those possibilities? Think about it. Dream about it. Make lists; get out the calculator. And if you decide to take the plunge, watch what happens in your life, and when you're ready, come and tell me about it. I really would love to know.

Closing words:

If we say thank you and really mean it, we have said yes to our belonging together.

When we cultivate that gratefulness to life,

we practice again and again saying yes to our limitless belonging,

to our obligations where each one is obliged to every other one,

and the world is a network,

a great Earth-household in which we all belong together.

Opening Words

Welcome, to this hour of recollection and reflection,

here in the community of memory and promise.

Let us be mindful, and rejoice in the richness of life, within us and all around us --

Within us as understanding and the capacity to choose,

Around us as nature's abundance, and the works of generous individuals --

So shall we rejoice in the fullness of life, and in the ancient story of humankind;

Chronicles of struggle and venture, of sowing and reaping, of mirth and zest,

Of rites and assemblies, of mating and feasting, of ordered custom and new liberties won;

Let us rejoice in the history of humanity;

In the finding of facts and in the shaping of forms,

In motions of the dance and of melodies,

In legendary images of grief and of ecstasy, in new visions of order

So shall we rejoice in the beauty of art, and the power of knowledge.

For the quiet of home, the comfort of friends, and the unending fascination of persons;

For the impulse to work and to create,

for the broad earth and the many opportunities open before us:

Let us be thankful for home and friends and life's important labors.

For prophets and reformers who cry shame upon social wrong,

For leaders of the people who are wise in the policies of the state,

For many forms of effort to build a commonwealth

where every soul may reach its highest good;

We are called to be thankful.

For shrines of faith where goods are praised and evils faced,

Where sorrows are healed and high purposes kindled,

Where our spirits are brought to those understandings and aspirations

Which are both our noblest task and most sublime joy,

May we give thanks indeed.

Let us build up our commitment here in the community of faith,

That we may have strength together

to minister ever more abundant life and peace to all the world.

Let us kindle this chalice, symbol of our heritage of liberty and conscience,

To burn as a beacon of light amidst the troubles of the world,

Inviting people everywhere into the clarity of reason and truth,

Into the warmth of kinship and community,

And into the bright hope of a new day for all.

From "Yes, with thanks" Brother David Steindl-Rast

That is how you become grateful. You suddenly recognize every moment as a given moment and every situation as a given situation and you realize that we live in what we call a given world. We usually only call it given when we don't like it much; we say, "Well, we just have to deal with this given situation." At least at those moments we remind ourselves that it is given, because it is given. You haven't made it, you haven't earned it, you haven't brought it about in any other way; everything is given. The only appropriate response is gratefulness. Gratefulness is the great task, the how of our spiritual work, because, rightly understood, it re-roots us.

The most important element about being grateful is a joyful acceptance of the bond established between the giver and the thanks-giver. In tribal societies, when you bring presents to the head of the village, it's a very important ritual. It is an attempt to establish bonds. The exciting moment is when you come with your gift: Will they accept it or not? From the moment your gift is accepted there is a bond. You are a guest and no longer a stranger.

Bonds are established when you say thank you. You enter into obligation. Nowadays we don't like obligations. When I learned English 35 years or so ago one could still say "very much obliged" instead of "thank you." In America you can't say "very much obliged" because nobody wants to be very much obliged. When people move into a new neighborhood they say "Let's not start gift-giving with our neighbors, it just creates obligations," as if this were something unpleasant.

If we say thank you and really mean it, we have said yes to our belonging together. We have said yes to the fact that we are receiving something which under no circumstances can we give ourselves - a present. It's always another from whom I receive. When we cultivate that gratefulness to life, we not only cultivate trust in life and openness for surprise, we practice again and again saying yes to our limitless belonging to this great Earth household. That roots us and makes us at home; it gives us that great at-homeness.

Therefore, we can say that the great spiritual work for our time, in the sense of re-rooting us in life and aliveness, is learning to be grateful. It is cultivating surprise not only with unexpected things, but all the more with expected things. It is cultivating that trust and that yes to our obligations where each one is obliged to every other and the world is a network, a great Earth-household in which all belong together.

Celebration for Jan:

Two weeks ago, our Director of Religious Education, Jan Devor, appeared before a group of people appointed by the Unitarian Universalist Association, known as the Religious Education Credentialing Committee. These ten professional religious educators and ministers had read a great deal about Jan, including letters of endorsement and recommendation, as well as a lengthy portfolio of her work and her academic transcripts. After an hour-long interview, the committee agreed that Jan should be recognized by the UUA as a Master's Level Credentialed Religious Educator - the highest level of qualification.

This was the culmination of a three year process in which Jan has filled in or updated course work, and created the professional portfolio that demonstrated her competence in all of the many aspects of a DRE's responsibilities. Those of us who know and work with Jan were in no way surprised; indeed, we would have been astonished had the committee done anything other than approve her with enthusiasm. Yet we are extremely proud as a congregation to have her excellence and professionalism officially recognized by our denominational association.

This June, at the UUA General Assembly in St. Louis, Jan will walk across the platform at the Service of the Living Tradition, and be welcomed into the community of credentialed religious professionals who serve our congregations and our larger movement. But here at FUS, we cannot wait that long to celebrate, and to express our delight in her achievement of this important milestone.

Jan, I want you to know how much I have always appreciated your cheerful professional competence, your vision for this Society, and your collegial support. I join the board, the Religious Education Committee, the Youth Adult Committee, and the rest of the congregation, in offering you our heartfelt congratulations. I know that the UUA is going to be giving you an impressive looking document in June, but we want you to have this certificate from us, as a reminder of our affection and pride, and how glad we are that you are OUR credentialed director of religious education.

Now, I know that you would never want an occasion such as this to be TOO solemn, and we all know how much you love your easter bunny ears, and your Christmas reindeer antlers, so I thought we might add a bit of appropriate headgear for today's celebration as well.

May you go from strength to strength; may your work here be long and fruitful; and may you continue to help shape the future of religious education and religious educators through out this movement.